PS 

35 




AlLL 



'^^^ 



;^.V»»«-!»«^^^ 



*»^^ 









LIBRARY, OF CONGRESS, 

©lap ii:i|U|n#:fu 

Shelf ....^5. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2010 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/poemsballadsOOsand 



POEMS AND BALLADS 



/ 

TYlM JOHANNA M. SANDERS 






San Francisco 

PRINTED PRIVATELY FOR THE AUTHOR 

Brunt & Company 

1890 






Copyright, i8go 
By Alfred A. Wheeler 



Of One Hundred Copies Printed 
This is No. 



/^LFIEID) /^LLIS@M WMEELEIR 
SE r@EMS MKE /^rrE<^TI@INldTELT 
^EID)1C/^TE1^ 



Contents 

PAGE 

My Song i 

May Day 3 

On the Rhine 8 

The Lost Pleiad n 

The Singer 12 

The Secret Cairn 17 

The Truant Lord 18 

Tintern Abbey 20 

On a Piece of Washington's Coffin . . .23 

The Stars and Stripes 24 

A Centennial Ode 31 

Dalilah 3^ 

Florence Nightingale 36 

The Bride 37 

The Apple Woman's Story 39 

Sea Weeds 48 

The Death of Wagner 49 

The Mermaid's Song 50 

A Lover's Rhapsody 51 

Unloved 52 

Bereaved 1^3 



At the Fountain of Egeria 56 

In Bondage 57 

Pia in Maremma 58 

To a Thistledown . 62 

Matin Song 64 

A Bird Carol 66 

Cradle Song 68 

Arcturus 70 

To my Brother 71 

Curds and Cream 72 

California 78 

In the Santa Cruz Mountains 79 

In Pace 82 



POEHS AND B/lLL^bS 



nr SoNQ 



WHAT though my lips be mute 
Or faintly sighing, 
I^ike some unfingered lute 
Neglected lying, 
Amid whose silver chords sweet music only 

slumbers 
Until the minstrel's touch shall wake its hidden 
numbers : — 
Within my bosom sealed. 

Oft wildly ringing, — 

The music unrevealed, — 

My heart is singing. 

Like haunting sounds that dwell 

With soft emotion 
In pearl}^ cavern' d shell. 
Borne from the ocean, 
Throbbing in echoed pulse to distant billows' 

swelling. 
Their solemn melodies in mystic whispers 
telling : — 
A mem'ry of the skies. 

In music clinging, 
Within my fond heart lies, 
Forever singing. 



MY SONG 



And though my lips be mute 

Or faintly sighing, 
Bearing no outward fruit 
Of that inlying, 
And though no touch of fire, in words of kindling 

glory, 
With bardic gift translate my spirit's silent 
story : — 
Its own true song of life 

In secret winging, 
My heart, unmoved by strife^ 
Is ever singing. 



fl/iY bar 



WAKE, comrades ! Lightly spring 
From slumber's drowsy thrall! 
Cheerful hearts and v^oices bring, 
Responsive to our call. 
Come, come, come merrily, comrades all ! 
With a joyous lay 
To greet the day, 
And lead forth our bonny Queen of May. 
Crown her with roses, glowing buds 

Impearled with dew; 
And scarf her bosom pure with braids 

Of violets blue; 
The sceptre, token of her power, 

A slender wand 
Of fragrant lilies, spotless white. 
Place in her hand. 
As chosen queen of our happy band. 



Then haste to the upland lawn, 
Gemmed with the breath of night, 

While the silver-footed dawn 
Comes dancing o'er the height. 
And Nature smiles in answering delight. 



4 MA Y DA Y 

With lips as gay, 
Shout, shout away, 
All hail to our bonny Queen of May! 

On! lead her to the throne of state — 

The rustic chair 
Of twisted branches quaintly made. 

That lichens bear; 
Her dainty foot-stool mosses be, — 

The carpet green 
Where moonlit elves and flitting fays 
Erst danced unseen, 
In antic mirth with their own fair queen. 



lyCt our heartfelt music swell 

In chorus loud and deep, 
Wafted to the secret cell 

Where sportive echoes sleep; 
Till cheeril)^ every woody steep 
In mocking play 
Sweet homage pay. 
And ring to our bonny Queen of May. 
Her canopy the spreading shade 

Of stately oak. 
Whose hoary stem has braved' the storm 

And thunder- stroke, 
Now garlanded, like smiling age. 

With honied vines, — 
The woodbine's wealth and blushing grace 
Of eglantines. 
Blazoned in trembling gold with furtive shines. 



MA Y DA Y 



Choicest posies hither bring 
From rifled field or nook, 
Moist from green-enameled spring 
And lil3-margined brook, 
Or formal plats that garden walls o'erlook. 
To the May-pole gay, 
Away, away! 
Then bear ofi"our bonny Queen of May! 
With leafy banners shedding sweets 

From purple plumes 
Of lilac branch, and rosy crests 

Of chestnut blooms. 
Emblems of innocence and joy 

Her path bestrew ! 
Oh, ma}^ her life's light footsteps press 
On flowers too, 
That wear serenest tints of pleasure's hue! 



Nimbl}^ nimbly on the green, 

Dance now and gaily sing; 
Hands entwining each between. 
Quickly form the fairy ring; 
And drooping wreaths like fragrant censers swing. 
Dance, dance, dance away! 
No foot may stay. 
Dance about our bonny Queen of May! 
With airy laughter, jokes and wiles 

From boys and girls. 
And flaunting ribbons letting fall 



6 MAY DAY 

lyong sunny curls, 
We trip the giddy circle round 

With hearts of glee, 
Nor pause the frolic step, till by 
Our queen set free. 
To cast our glowing tributes at her knee. 

VI 

lyike gazelles whose bounding feet 

O'er perfumed prairies go. 
Seeking some beloved retreat 
In fertile valleys low. 
Where spring breathes soft and waters flow, 
To wander and play 
The livelong day, 
We run with our bonny Queen of May : 
Some to the fountain's bubbling brink 

With thirsty lip ; 
Some to the shady stream, their lines 

To slyly dip ; 
To the pied meads and clover fields 

Of emerald sheen. 
To lure the bees and butterflies 
The blooms between, 
Or oracles from sibyl daisies glean. - 

VII 

Gather, gather, rovers all. 

With lagging step and slow ! 

To rest in groves where shadows fall 
That noon-gleams never know, — 
To the May-feast gather at the call ! 



MA V DA Y 

Who'd stop to play, — 

When called away 
To feast with our bonny Queen of May ? 

Then ere we part, we'll saunter through 

Some S3'lvan glade, 
Or musky woodland's arching aisles 

Of mottled shade ; 
Ivist to wild minstrelsy afloat 

On the still air ; 
Peer into ferny brakes and thorns 

For nestlings there ; 
Or watch the squirrel sport, or start the hare. 



Homeward, birds ! On weary wing, 

One lingering pause devote. 
To join in grateful caroling. 
With latest, sweetest note. 
That haply may to heaven's portal float ; 
For in twilight grey, 
Fast fades away 
The reign of our bonny Queen of May. 

' Spread o'er her couch, O balmy Sleep, 

Th}' charmed veil ! 
lyCt gentle Shapes kind vigil keep, 

Till stars grow pale ! ' 
lyO ! now the crescent moon betrays 

Its tender light ; 
And rippling on the dewy air, 
' Good night ! Good night ! ' 
Proclaims our May-day revels ended quite. 



On the Rhine 



SWIFTI.Y flows the dark blue Rhine, 
Like a Sibyl, half divine, 
Murmuring, as it glides along, 
Many a weird and wondrous song. 
Red with strife and strong wnth pride, 
And mellowed by time, like the fiery wine 
Of sunny vineyards by its side : — 
Songs of love, the olden story ; 
Songs of tournay, war, and glory ; 
Songs of age and songs of youth ; 
Of holy strivings after truth. 
And darkest deeds of hate or ruth. 

O bright river, storied river, 
Siren-tongued, immortal Rhine, 
What entrancing lays are thine ! - 
What rugged rhymes and dream}^ chimes 
Of those heroic, struggling times, 
To listening ears dost thou deliver ! 

Once more upon thy shining breast, 
In fancy's magic colors drest. 



ON THE RHINE 

Oh, let the mirrored outline rest 
Of wooded hills and castled steep, 
Embattled towers and frowning keep ; 
Let blazoned banners proudly float 
O'er bold escarp and guarded moat ; 
Bid Time restore dismantled halls, 
The ivied arch, the crumbled walls ; 
And 'mid thy vines and fruity bowers, 
And waving fields and crowding flowers, 
Bring back the pageant, martial host, 
The battle cry and lordly boast. 
The steel-clad warrior stout and brave. 
The glancing spear and flashing glaive, 
The war-steed decked with housings bright. 
And noble bearing of the knight. 
In gallant deeds of high emprise 
To win the smile of ladies' eyes. 

Sing on, sing on, thou stately stream ! 
The artist's love, the poet's dream ! 
Sing of fair maids and bandits dun. 
Of spectres grim and cloistered nun. 
Of giant heroes, empires won. 
And precious blood on every hand 
Shed for the love of Fatherland ! 
Awake earth's echoes far and wide 
With lofty hymns, first sung beside 
The cradle of an Infant Truth 
That strangled serpents in its youth, 
And whose maturing strength has brought 
Freedom to man's aspiring thought ! 



lo ON THE RHINE 

Sing on ! and let me catch the sigh 
Of dying years that round thee lie, 
The spirit and the old emotion 
Of melodies that with thee fly 
To mingle with Oblivion's ocean. 



The Lost Flei/id 



MEROPE), child of light, why dost thou haste 
From realms where thou hast dwelt 
serenely chaste ? 
Why, ah why j^eam 
To view life's turbulent sad sights, 
And share, with human passion, blights 
That chill or burn ? 

Seeking a mortal spouse in earth's dark maze, 
Doth not some vision on thy steadfast gaze 
Forboding wake? 
And with dim prophecy of pain — 
From love unsatisfied or slain — 
Thy purpose shake ? 

Thy star grows pale, where, in a golden throng, 
Thy sister Pleiads wake celestial song ; 
For nevermore. 
Amid that shimmering, star-linked band, 
Shalt thou, Earth-bound Merope, stand 
As heretofore. 



The Sinqek 



A LADY sat within her bower 
Once on a day, — 
Lily-fair, in the golden hour 

Of youth's sweet May ; 
But brighter than day's golden shower. 
And sweeter than spring's opening flower, 
Dwelt in her breast a latent power, — 

Fatal alway ! 
An altar and a tomb the dower 

Of Passion's sway. 



From the pure fountains of her heart, 

So deep and strong. 
Came gushing, her ripe lips apart, 

The tide of song : 
Hymning of joy and life and art, 
As thoughts to forms of beauty start, 
Or playful fancies glance and dart, — 

Like doves that throng 
On white wings fluttering to depart 

And flight prolong. 



THE SINGER 13 



Each passing footstep lingered there, 

So sweetly fell 
That lofty music, with a rare 

Melodious spell : 
Easing the burdened mind of care, 
Soothing the anguish of despair, 
Teaching the suffering soul to bear 

Or grief dispel : — 
So prodigal its strength to share, 

Its joy to tell. 



Till faltering ceased those anthems clear ; 

As ebbing streams 
Pause, stilled, when tidal pulses near. 

(O rosy dreams ! 
In whose illusive atmosphere 
So radiantly hopes appear, 
That vanish with a sigh, a tear, 

In misty gleams !) 
Love's presence wakes a tender fear 

That rapture seems. 



With outstretched arms and bosom bare 

To the pure light, 
She softly wooes that phantom fair 

Of new delight, — 
For heart of heart craves equal share ; 



14 THE SINGER 

When lo, a shadow falling there, 
She only clasps the empty air ; 

And lost to sight, 
The vision fades on her despair,— 

lyOve's early blight ! 



vr 



But the pent song that erst was still — 

(Alas, that grief 
Had power its sunny flow to chill 

In unbelief!)- — 
Burst through the bonds of baffled will 
With richer melody to thrill. 
And sweeter, deeper sense instill. 

(Just so the leaf 
Is shed, when nectared juices fill 

Their fruity sheath.) 



Yet mingling tones of sadness came, 

Unheard before : 
The fainting cry of want and pain 

Without the door, 
The craving else than empty fame. 
The shrinking from a touch of blame. 
The thirst of a consuming flame, — 

Ah, how deplore 
Those shuddering discords that proclaim 

The reft heart's lore ! 



THE SINGER 15 



Till with soft show of courtesy 

And wooing bland, — 
(So weds the secret, treacherous sea 

The smiling land) — 
A stately form on bended knee 
Proffers the chalice that should be 
A charmed draught, her song to free 

From sorrow's brand. 
(The luring hand of Destiny 

Who may withstand ? ) 



But oh, her bowed lips only greet 

A bitter taste ! 
And heart-stung by her love's defeat, — 

Recking no waste 
That makes a sacrifice complete, — 
Into that cup, woe's last retreat, 
She throws her life! (Love's gains are fleet!) 

Pouring, thus graced, 
The rich libation at his feet 

With fatal haste. 



The light has faded from the west; 

Come the dark hour ; 
Death sits a grim and silent guest 

Within the bower. 
Her white hands folded on her breast, 



i6 THE SINGER 

lyike snow-wreaths from an Alpine crest, 
The lovely minstrel lies at rest, — 

A broken flower ! 
At peace for aj-e the heart oppressed 

By passion's power. 



But that high song's immortal sound 

Still echoes, heard 
Above the din of life's dull round. 

And souls are stirred : 
The brow of thought with rapture crowned. 
And hearts from chains of earth unbound, 
When with electric touch profound 

Some burning word 
Sheds with its light a joy new-found 

On hope deferred! 



The Secret C/iirn 



ABOVE the grave of perished joys 
- And daring hopes untimely slain, 
There rises, stone by stone, a Cairn, 

Secreted in the heart's domain ; 
Where pilgrim thoughts, through weary years. 
Oft pause with unavailing tears. 

The flaunting trains of worldly pride 

Pass by afar and know it not ; 
No warring passions linger there 

To desecrate the hallowed spot 
Where souls bereaved, with mournful song. 
Unceasing requiems prolong. 

lyove only waits and vigil keeps. 

Through the long night of grief's dark hours; 
Till from oblivion's gathering mould 

Spring memory's amaranthine flowers, 
And faith's pure dawn, with promise bright, 
Touches the Secret Cairn with light. 



The Tr^/int LoRb 



TTE cries to his horse, as with loosened rein 
-*--*- He spurs and bounds o'er the barren 
plain, — 
"On, Selim, on ! high-hearted steed, 
That never yet failed me at my need ! 
Miles upon miles before us lie. 
Now prove your mettle and onward fly." 

The rider bethinks him of his home, — 

In an evil hour he had willed to roam, — 

Of its sparkling founts, its vine-hung bowers^ 

Its alleys green, its fruits and flowers; 

Of his fair young wife, of a voice unheard, 

Of the charm and joy of a loving word. 

But none of these to his restless heart 
Could the balm of sweet content impart. 
He longed for action and power and state. 
To vie with men and to war with fate ; 
And so it befell on a weary day, 
He mounted his Arab and rode away. 

Then days and months and years were told, 
And the fervor of early love grew cold ; 
Till in a vision of import dire, 



THE TRUANT LORD 19 

An angel kindled remorseful fire ; 

And his heart cried out with craving pain 

For love and the sweets of home again. 

Though brave the steed and swift his flight, 
His flanks with red and his breast with white 
Are with blood and foam bedabbled o'er, 
Ere breathless he stops at his master's door. 
No loving smile, no welcoming word, 
By the truant lyord is seen or heard. 

On a bed of slime, unmoved and dim, 
The water sleeps at the fountain's rim ; 
Where beauty of art with nature vied. 
The newt and the slug in silence glide ; 
Ungarnered fruits decay and drop ; 
Thistles and weeds are summer's crop. 

The spider has woven her silken lace 
To drape the portal's dingy face ; 
Over ruined garden and empty hall, 
Behold ! there hangs a funereal pall 
For hope departed and love betrayed 
And a broken heart in the tomb low-laid. 



TiNTERN A33ET 



THERE stands in ruin Tintern's hallowed 
fane, 
Where silence, awe and desolation reign ! 

Through roofless walls, here ages yet entire. 
No longer heavenward points the loft)'- spire ; 
Its deep foundations, too, arched o'er in vain, 
Return with slow decay to earth again. 
Some stately columns, time awhile defied. 
Still rear their ivied heads with seeming pride ; 
Whilst others, fallen from their Gothic state, 
With flowers o'ergrown, half hide their humbled 
fate. 

Through windows once with pictured story bright, 
No more the morning plays with changeful light ; 
But clustering vines the casements darkly shade 
With graceful fringe of tendrils overlaid ; 
And moss and lichens, in each crevice caught. 
Quaint traceries of arabesque have wrought. 
Tall ferns that in green tangled tresses stream ; 
Pale wall-flowers that like golden censers gleam, 
Wafting their fragrant incense on the breeze ; 
Thistles and grasses in a living frieze, 
Together with the ivy's curtained flow, — 



TIN TERN ABBE Y 2 1 

A solemn, soft and checkered shadow throw 
Along the dew-damp aisle with turf o'erspread, 
Where once the pavement holy footsteps led. 

Rude pious-sculptured fragments lie around, 
And Death's denoting tablets mark his ground ; 
Whilst tombs to rank and friendship passed away, 
Now unremembered, moulder in decay. 
The very names that once were known to fame, 
Or cherished in fond hearts like sacred flame, 
Though graved on marble by the hand of care, 
Have vanished like a breath upon the air. 

Yon stairway, which, by fearful footing traced, 
Still hangs almost in air through years of waste, 
Once coursed secure the turret's circled height. 
Where lonely monk, in prayer th' enduring night, 
With contrite heart essayed and bitter tears 
To lull remorse or soothe fanatic fears. 
Or there perhaps some deep, ambitious mind. 
Mysterious vigils kept, in thought sublimed ; 
Aimed by forbidden art and magic spell 
The star-stampt characters of night to tell ; 
But secrets dire perused of hidden fate 
Still left the lonely heart more desolate. 

No tinkling bell, nor organ's swelling sound, 
Nor chanting voice breaks silence oft profound. 
The screech-owl's vesper cry alone is heard, 
Or matin music of some flitting bird. 
No joy-bells thrill the golden morning air 
With bridal summons for the young and fair ; 



22 TIN TERN ABBEY 

No pealing chimes of Merrie Christmas tell, 
Nor solemn tolling of the passing knell ; 
But summer breezes mournful music wake, 
And wintry winds more awful dirges make. 
When flooding rains like tears unnumbered fall, 
Or drifting snow-wreaths spread a ghastly pall. 

And yet within this desecrated fane, 

I^ike lingering perfume, hallowed things remain : 

The dew of contrite tears ; the breath of prayer 

That once exhaled upon its sacred air ; 

The dust of holy men and weary life. 

That here laid down their burdens, ceased their 

strife. 
And 'neath the shelter of a common sod 
Found peace within the bosom of their God. 



On a riECE ofW/ishinqton'5 Coffin 



A RELIC — dumb, yet oh ! how eloquent — 
This fragment of the lowly, narrow bed 
Of him for whom a nation's tears were shed ! 
Who, in the hour of need, his genius lent 
To heal his country's wounds, — war's fury spent ; 
And having patriot hosts to conquest led, 
In peace, unsullied by ambition, spread 
Fresh lustre on Free People's Government. 

Less frail this remnant of the forest tree 
Than mortal shell now crumbled into dust ; 
But noble deeds and truth and honor live 
Immortal ; and till time shall cease to be, 
The name of Washington to all men must 
Be hallowed and the hope of freedom give. 



The St/jrs AHh Strifes 

A BALLAD OF THE FIRST VICTIM OF THE 
CIVIL WAR 

THE blow that lowered Sumter's flag 
Awoke a slumbering fire 
That gathered lightnings on its path 

To weld a people's ire. 
That blow, aimed at a Nation's life, 

Struck every loyal heart, 

And taught the scheming partisan 

The patriot's nobler part; 

Respect for just, enlightened rule, 

Obedience to Law, — 
Voice of his country's majesty 

That Anarchy shall awe ; 
To keep the Starry Flag aloft, 

Unsullied and unshorn, 
A beacon-hope on Freedom's height 

For ages yet unborn ; 

And more than life to prize that bond 

Whose wise control unites 
The strength of numbers with the pride 

Of individual rights ; 



THE STARS AND STRIPES 25 

Which knows not East, West, North nor vSouth, 

Save one united Whole : 
One name, one past, one destiny, 

One body and one soul. 

A brooding horror filled the pause. 

Dread herald of the storm, 
Ere the avenging hand was raised 

Or severed thought could form ; 
Till burst the war-cloud's pent up wrath. 

And borne from hill to shore, 
A Nation's mortal cry went forth : — 
"Onward! through Baltimore !" 

** Columbia calls her loyal sons 

To ward off Treason's guile ; 
To quell the parricidal rage 

That would her soil defile ; 
To guard her stately Capitol 

From the invading tread 
Of rebel children, who would pour 

Dishonor on her head ! ' ' 

Then from the workshop and the field, 

The anvil and the loom. 
The press, the studio, the school. 

The mart and counting-room. 
Came heart to heart, like brethren true 

Their birthright to defend. 
The heirs of freedom bought with blood, 

Their own free blood to spend. 



26 THE STARS AND STRIPES 

Foremost in answer to that call, 

Among the loyal ones 
With noble indignation fired, 

Came stern New England's sons. 
They came in faith but to defend 

The Nation's Temple-door ; 
No order yet to draw the sword. 

But "On ! through Baltimore ! " 

Too honest all to apprehend 

Rebellion's brutal power, 
Mob-force, that met them shamelessly 

In that unguarded hour ; 
Assailed with missiles rude and vile. 

And shot like beasts of prey : — ^ 
Such welcome Baltimore bestowed 

On that fair April day. 

O city of historic pride. 

Wipe off that bloody stain | 
Untarnished raise the civic shield 

With loyalty again ! 
Bright gem that sparkles on the brow 

Of haughty Maryland, 
For Freedom and for Union shine 

Among the starry band ! 

Where thickest fall the dastard blows, 
First fruit of Treason's hate, 

A wounded youth unnoticed lies : 
Achieved a hero's fate ! 



THE STARS AND STRIPES 27 

A solemn calm to pain succeeds, 

He watches from afar 
The flag he no more may defend, 

So long his guiding star. 

When lo ! as though the parting soul 

Would bear to heaven's expanse 
Some shadow of its Past, recalled 

In one supernal glance, — 
Sweet visions minister delight, 

While death holds revel there : 
The pageant of his guiltless life 

Seems painted on the air. 

New Hampshire's wooded heights ! O joy — 

The sweets of home once more ! 
The swallows building in the eaves 

Above the cottage door ; 
The rustic garden where he watched 

The resurrected seed, — 
That oracle of Nature's love 

Which he who runs may read ; 

The ancient musket on the wall, 

Revered with childish awe, 
His gallant grandsire once had borne 

At glorious Chippewa ; 
The old man's stirring tales of war 

Beside the winter hearth. 
Of victories and moral throes 

That gave a nation birth; 



28 THE STARS AND STRIPES 

His boyish aspirations for 

Some greatness undefined, 
His trivial faults, privations, joys, 

Are strangely brought to mind : 
How, when the daily task was done, 

In some secluded nook 
His country's history he conned 

From the long-treasured book ; 

How to the drum and fife's glad sound 

His heart would wildly beat. 
As proudly near the village corps 

He trod the grass-grown street ; 
How sprang the hot, unconscious tears 

To eyes unused to weep. 
When o'er those native skies he saw 

The Flag of Freedom sweep ; 

And how, when war's imperious call 

Disturbed this dreamy life. 
He woke to manhood, joined the ranks^ 

And parted for the strife. 
And then his little brother's wish, 

Half sorrow and half pride, — 
" O sister, would I were a man, 

To fight by Jamie's side !" 

That sister's artless vanity 
To see his martial grace ; 

The tearless pallor, like a veil, 

Spread o'er his mother's face ; 



THE STARS AND STRIPES 29 

Her last fond look, her parting words — 

"M)^ son, be true and brave !" — 
When to the countr^-'s treasury 
Her Widow's Mite she gave. 

But memory fades with ebbing life, 

And instinct guides the way 
To drag his failing limbs beyond 

The tumult of the fray. 
A humble shop is near, he gains 

At last a shelter there, 
Where pity wakes and gentle hands 

Bestow a Christian care. 

But one stands by with sullen brow 

And cold, embittered heart. 
Who calls himself a "Southerner," 

And takes a traitor's part; 
Who falsely claims secession's right 

The Union to destroy, 
And looks with sectional disdain 

Upon the " Yankee " boy. 

To him unknown the generous glow 

That fired that patriot breast, 
Its simple faith — Obedience 

To loyalty's behest ; 
A selfish policy he knew, 

The partisan's poor lore ; 
And rudely questioned and rebuked — 

This man of Baltimore. 



30 THE STARS AND STRIPES 

* ' Unlucky boy ! what brought you here 

To face the brunt of war ? 
The workshop or the school, methinks, 

Were more befitting far ; 
Or mother's chiding hand to curb 

A vanity so mad : — 
Say, was it for the ' hireling's pay ? ' 

IV/zat brought you here, my lad ? " 

The youthful hero, rallying 

His fast departing breath, 
Uplifts a pallid brow where hang 

The icy beads of death ; 
The radiance of a heavenly smile 

Played o'er his ghastly cheek, 
As thrice his faltering lips essayed 

The proud reply to speak. 

Forth from his wide and filmy eye 
There flashed a sudden fire ; 

One last great throb his true heart gave, 
As woke the old desire. 

Then, as he sank — to rise no more — 
Upon his gory bed, 

In thrilling, sweet, exultant tone, 
" The Stars and Stripes .'" he said. 



A Qentenni/il ObE 

JULY 4, 1876 



COLUMBIA ! like some goddess newly shrined 
In Time's emblazoned hall, thou'st made 
thy name 
A talisman of hope for faith to bind 

Above the wounds of nations and their shame I 
Thy banner, Freedom's glorious oriflame, 
Hath borne to many a land o'er ocean's bound 

A blessing with the triumph of thy fame, 
And wakened in man's heart a joy profound, 
Where'er thy watchword, " Liberty," was heard 
to sound. 



Quick with regenerate force, thou wert a Bud 

To be engrafted on the virgin years ; 
A new Evangel, written with the blood 

Of trodden peoples and their children's tears ; 

A Sign portentous waking tyrants' fears ; 
A Haven made for Pilgrim feet that fled 

The cruel barriers Superstition rears : — 
Star of the West, thy kindling radiance led 
To Freedom's cradled hope, and holy influence 
shed ! 



32 A CENTENNIAL ODE 



The tangled forest, the unpeopled wild — 

Or peopled only with a savage race — 
Were braved and conquered, nature's frowns 
beguiled, 
Until the desert bloomed with every grace. 
Danger and want to free, full life gave place ; 
And faith's endurance, life's heroic toils. 

Gave strength to growth which now moves on 
apace. 
Laden with wisdom's wealth and nature's spoils, 
From whose enlightened buhvarks ignorance 
recoils. 

IV 

lyCt Pride and pompous Ceremonial pause 
Ere they decry the rudeness of thy youth. 

Or curl the haughty lip of scorn, because 
Thy monuments historic are, forsooth. 
Not yet embellished by Time's gnawing tooth ; 

For thou hast reared a pharos on thy shore, 
The lyight of Freedom, nature's sacred truth, 

Where panting slaves and exiles sad and sore 

Shall feel oppression's goad and burdens never- 
more ! 

V 

Thy temple doors have opened to the world 
A sanctuary for enfranchised Mind ; 

Beneath thy starry flag, in peace unfurled,!; 
Trophies of industry and art are twined ; 
Just laws and equal rights the fasces bind ; 



A CENTENNIAL ODE 33 

There in one universal brotherhood 
All nationalities a home may find, 
The fruits of liberty — their daily food — 
May gather and enjoy, if rightly understood. 

VI 

The treasures of primeval da3-s are stored 

In earth's kind breast throughout thy vast 
domains ; 
From Plenty's horn a lavish sweetness poured 

On fruitful valleys and wide grassy plains ; 

While o'er blue lakes and winding river veins 
A spirit of ethereal beauty bends, 

O'er the steep cataract's abysses reigns, 
On snow-clad mounts and giant groves descends. 
And grandeur's grace to Nature's wilder aspects 
lends. 

VII 

And many a name of hero and of sage. 
Serene in peace, in war still undismayed, 

Illuminates thy brief historic page. 

The name of Washington, with pride displayed 
On thy emblazoned shield, a shrine hath made 

In ever>' land where an aspiring soul 
Its sacrifice on freedom's altar laid. 

Long may that hallowed name, while cycles roll. 

Be cherished and thy sons' ambitious aims 
control! 

VIII 

The fire of war's dissension quenched — a flame 
By error kindled and by passion fed — 



34 A CENTENNIAL ODE 

Aggressive hands, once raised with deadly aim, 
In friendship clasp ; grief's mutual tears are 

shed — 
All wrongs forgotten of the buried dead — 

O'er many a grave of brother once a foe : 
Embittered hearts that once in discord bled, 

Now gladly throb with patriot pride, and know 

The blessings union, peace and liberty bestow. 



Thy grateful sons, Columbia, greet thee now 
First hallowed by a centhry of years ! 

Years whose immortal fruits shall yet endow 
Humanity with youthful strength that cheers, 
And moral beauty, as new light appears. 

And though the mazy paths of truth elude 

Man's groping mind awhile, though error rears 

Its hydra-head in vile solicitude, — 

Years of unfettered thought may lead to Perfect 
Good. 



A century of chartered freedom thine — 

The first imperial stamp by ages prest; 
Victorious bays and peaceful olives' twine 

Thy starry diadem's refulgent crest. 

Thy pedestal a New World, thou dost rest 
With firm feet on a mighty continent, 

A boundless ocean laving either breast. 
Thine eyes upon a glorious future bentj 
Humanity's Ideal ! Freedom's Embodiment ! 



bALlLAU 

ON SEEING story's STATUE 

> ^T^ IS done ! the deed of treachery and guile 
-^ That robs the mighty warrior of his 
strength ! 
His shoni locks lie in all their vaunted length 
Beneath thy feet, the spoil of many a wile ; 
And gold thy cruel fair hands doth defile, 
Thou type of perjured woman's evil ways, 
Who while caressing secreth^ betrays. 
And stabs at life and honor with a smile ! 

Upon thy brow, now passionless and cold, 

As though remorse stirred in thy stony heart, 

The moral of thy guilty tale is told 

In conscious shame : — a germ of heavenly mould. 
Left, ere thy better angel did depart, 
To bloom in pity there, immortalized by Art. 



Florence Miqhtinq/ile 



\ NGElv of help, by holy fires annealed, 
-^"^ Whose charmed name links with Italia' s 
flower 
The wakeful minstrel of the rosy bower, 
How oft thy voice like music's balm hath healed 
Despair and anguish death alone had sealed. 
When e'en thy shadow's sympathetic power, 
Through thy sweet mercies, soothed the dying 
hour 
Of heroes, and their fainting hearts were steeled. 

Then like the Swan- White Maiden's fairy spell, 
The "precious gems" — of thought by truth 

made bold, 
The " golden rings " — of love's encircling fold, 

In countless blessings from thy presence fell ; 
And in the vital warmth thy good deeds shed, 
Sprang roses whereso'er thy footsteps led. 



The Bride 



HER bridal robes all pearly white, 
Of silvery, silken gleams, 
Seem luminous as fleecy clouds 

That veil the moon's chaste beams ; 
And filmy laces fall like foam 

That follows in her wake, 
As to the sacred shrine she glides, 
Love's plight to give and take. 



With eyes like violets bathed in dew, 

Downcast in maiden shame. 
And fluttering heart impressed with awe 

And fears without a name ; 
While orange-blooms, the virgin crown, 

Their fragrant breath exhale 
Above a fair unsullied brow 

And cheeks as lilies pale. 

As on some far rock-columned shore 

Resounding billows swell. 
And breaking die, soft as the sigh 

Within an ocean shell, — 
The organ's deep melodious tides 

In wavy raptures rise, 



38 THE BRIDE 

And choral voices thrill and melt 
I^ike sounds from Paradise. 

With heart to heart, for bliss or bale, 

The youthful spouses stand ; 
The golden circlet of the wife 

Gleams on the bride's fair hand ; 
Her pledge of love, life's freight of hope, 

In trust supreme is given : — 
Oh, may that vow be blest on earth 

And registered in heaven ! 



The ZIFFLE Won/JN'5 Story 

WIIyL you buy an apple, madam? Here's a 
pippin bright as gold. 
Better never ripened, — and many a fine one I 

have sold. 
Here's red and russet, less beautiful, but just as 

sweet and sound. 
Thank you, lady. Little Miss will have a treat 
now, I'll be bound. 

It warms my heart to see her beaming face, so 

pure and mild. 
'Tis a glimpse of heaven, — the darling ! Be not 

afraid, dear child ; 
Though I'm like the sere and blasted tree, it was 

not always so ; 
I once was ruddy and straight and strong, — a 

long, long time ago. 

And I'm so accustomed to it now, I quite forget 

the shame 
Of my scars and crooked limbs. True, ma'am, 

misfortune is no blame ; 
I've never looked upon a glass since I learnt to 

look within, 
And face the ugliness found there, — for ah, who 

is free from sin ? 



40 THE APPLE WOMAN 

Yes, I'm growing old, dear lady, shall be sixty- 
nine to-morrow. 

I've had sore trials in my time, too, heaps upon 
heaps of sorrow ; 

Yet I don't repine, there's nothing now can grieve 
me evermore, 

And I'm thankful I have not to beg my bread 
from door to door. 

Tell you about it? Yes, I will. 'T is a dreary 

tale of woe. 
That now seems like a troubled dream, for it 

happened long ago. 
You can scarce believe, my dear, that I was once 

a pretty girl, 
With eyes as bright and blue as yours and as 

many a golden curL 

I was a loved and happy child, though reared on 

plainest food. 
And my home the humblest cottage that in our 

village stood. 
No lighter step than mine was seen, no merrier 

voice was heard. 
In the meadows where I tossed ' the hay and 

caroled like a bird. 

I had many suitors, — and might have married 

better to be sure ; 
Yet I was rich in my Harry's love ; fond hearts 

are never poor. 



THE APPLE WOMAN 41 

Father and mother — they 'd only me — I left for him 

I chose ; 
And parting was my heart's first grief, but so 

God's order goes. 

Folks said we were a handsome pair. A proud 

and joyous wife, 
I little thought my path would lead through 

years of lonely life. 
We left the village for the town for the sake of 

Harr>^'s trade : — 
A ship-carpenter, my dear, and a good livelihood 

he made. 

Snugly and happily we lived, as small comforts 
round us grew. 

A blessing rested on us then, — twice a mother's 
joy I knew. 

The pretty ways of baby, the prattle of our 
chubby lad, 

A tidy hearth and a loving smile, made the home- 
welcome glad. 

One evening, keeping holiday, we went to see the 

play, 
Leaving our blooming baby Rose with a neighbor 

by the way. 
Ann had a nursling of her own ; there seemed 

no reason for regret : 
Yet I had misgivings, and my lips with baby's 

tears were wet. 



42 THE APPLE WOMAN 

So I wearied of the mirth and glare ; and at 
nature's mute demand, 

More than once my tingHng bosom seemed to feel 
her playful hand. 

Silent I sat, and o'er me came a shuddering, name- 
less fear, 

As mournful sounds like sobs and cries seemed to 
murmur in my ear. 

The curtain fell, we hurried forth. Then, like a 
surging ocean, 

The clang of bells, the cry of " Fire!" the engine's 
rushing motion, 

Grew louder as we neared our home, lighted by 
lurid flashes, 

Alas ! to find a blackened ruin, a heap of smoulder- 
ing ashes. 

Clasping our boy, my husband parted from me in 

the throng. 
I, thinking of baby's peril only, hurried along. 
Unmindful of the fiery rain — oh, 'twas like the 

day of doom ! — 
I reached the burning tenement and flew up to 

Annie's room. 

Dizzied and blind, I searched and called despair- 
ingly in vain; 

Stunned by terror for a moment, then a prey to 
doubt and pain ; 

Till a sharp cry, an infant's wail, my groping 
footsteps led : — 



THE APPLE WOMAN 43 

From the floor I snatched the darling to my 
breast and would have fled. 

But oh, the stairs had vanished ! in their place 

great bursts of flame, 
Mixed with hissing streams and stifling gusts, 

nearer and nearer came. 
Cries of horror from the crowd answered my 

voice, with anguish keen, 
When at the window, 'gainst the light, mother 

and babe were seen. 

Daring arms were stretched and caught the 

precious little life I bore. 
Then from fier>^ death escaping, I sprang out and 

knew no more. 
But oh, I left the hospital a hideous thing, half 

blind and lame ; 
And 'twas Anfi' s baby I had saved; viine perished 

in the flame. 

Yes, lady, Ann was rescued from the attic crazed 

with fright, 
Whither she ran to rouse her boys, who else had 

waked no more that night. 
Ann said she never could repay me, she a poor 

sailor's wife; 
And would insist she 'd been to blame, good soul, 

and thought so all her life. 

Well, health returned, yet every day saw hopes of 
happiness depart ; 



44 THE APPLE WOMAN 

For husband never was the same, he took our 

losses so to heart. 
Moody or wild, neglecting work, he sought the 

tavern's hateful spell : — 
Ah, guess what followed, ma'am, his shame is 

not for my poor tongue to tell. 

I struggled on, toiled early and late, more than 

my strength could bear ; 
Though Charlie's little gains ere long were 

proudly brought for me to share. 
Then happened what I'd long foreseen, after years 

of silent woe, — 
But oh, the tears of widowhood came with a 

bitter flow. 

Sad and lonely were the days I passed while 

Charlie was at sea. 
He was a beautiful, brave boy, and so dutiful to 

me 
That I had no heart to thwart his wish to lead 

a sailor's life. 
Thank God ! there never came between us a word 

of blame or strife. 

He was wondrous clever, too, I still can see his 

sunny smile, 
"While telling marvelous long yams, dear boy! our 

evenings to beguile. 
I know not how he learnt it all ; his tongue, so 

glib, was never bold, 



THE APPLE WOMAN 45 

And so truthful — why, he'd not have told a lie 
for mines of gold. 

Well, a hard winter came, when food was dear 

and scarce beside ; 
But I sold no apples in those days ; Charlie all 

my wants supplied. 
I counted every lengthening day, as a miser 

counts his store, 
For with the spring would come my treasure to 

my arms once more. 

I remember how I used to sit and watch the little 

star 
He once told me guided mariners, wandering on 

seas afar ; 
And how my yearning heart would throb, as I 

walked at eve alone, 
Looking out upon the ocean, saddened by its 

solemn moan. 

And oh, I never, never shall forget when the 

great storm began. 
How the wind howled at the shattered pane and 

the rain in torrents ran ; 
How I held my fainting breath at the awful 

thunder of the deep, 
As all night long I wept and prayed, and never 

thought of sleep. 

And what a mortal dread I felt, when, cowering 
at the hearth, 



46 THE APPLE WOMAN 

An icy kiss upon my brow left a farewell not of 
eayth. 

A stillness fell ere morning broke ; and when I 
looked upon the street, 

The white snow lay in drifted folds like a glisten- 
ing winding-sheet. 

Three fearful days the tempest raged, before 'twas 

truly known, 
That, while saving other lives, my boy had 

bravely lost his own; 
And that almost in sight of home his ship had 

gone ashore, 
Freighted with precious souls, whose little dream 

of life was o'er. 

Small comfort to me was it then to hear his 

frozen corse was found, 
And with others decently interred in consecrated 

ground. 
But now I'm glad to know he sleeps beneath the 

heaven's blue pall, 
With a simny sod upon his breast where summer 

roses fall. 

You weep, — ay, so did I those days, until my 

heart was dry. 
But now I'm waiting patiently to join them all 

on high. 
I've earned a pittance, just enough a pauper's end 

to save ; 



THE APPLE WOMAN 47 

And have a spotless suit laid by to clothe me for 
the grave. 

I cannot see through it all ! yet I feel that God is 

good, 
That His sacred promises are kept, though not 

always understood. 
No kindred branch is left me, but He has lent a 

little flower 
To cheer my wintry age and dew with tears its 

last dark hour. 

'Tis Nellie, madam, Ann's poor grandchild, now 

orphaned and alone. 
I love the dear good girl, and oftentimes forget 

she 's not my own. " 

On holidays and the brief hours that labor leaves 

to spare. 
She never fails to come and soothe me with many 

a tender care. 

Together then we gossip and the pleasant time 

flies fast, 
While she prophecies the future and I preach 

about the past. 
And that is all my story, dear. Yes, when it's 

not too cold. 
You '11 find me hereabouts, — not long, though, 

for I'm growing weak and old. 



StA Weeds 



IN gardens of a hidden world we dwell, 
In Ocean's crystal depths, through which the 
light 
Gleams in pale rays of pearl and chrysolite. 
Our purple beauty drapes each rocky cell ; 
We filmy webs weave for the chambered shell, 
Green carpets spread in coral caverns hid, 
A mossy couch for slumbering Nereid, 
Or Siren dreaming some melodious spell. 

The sea-nymphs, dancing on the nacreous sands, 
Their flowing locks crown with our airy plumes, 

Their foam-white bosoms wreathe with rosy bands 
And garlands woven of our brine-gemmed 
blooms, 

And with these treasures of our ocean-birth 

Enrich and grace the barren edge of Earth. 



The De/ith of W/iqner 



THEIR faces veiled in grief, the Muses bend 
Above thy couch of death. How cold and 
still 
Those lips of fire, that once the world could 
fill 
With music, and the light of poesj' lend 
To misty themes of love and strife, and send 
With power of prophecy a deeper thrill 
To human hearts, and quicken human will 
To higher aims of Art and nobler end. 

Great Master, mighty Singer, art thou mute ? 
Thy harp unstrung ? Thy voice forever hushed. 
Whose music like the storm of battle rushed. 

Or in soft, melting strains dropped heavenly 
fruit ? 
Immortal! still thou compassest Earth's sphere: 
Thy soul on music's wings still hovers here ! 



The riERn/iib'S 5onq 



SING, sisters, blow your music shells, 
And dance on every wave that swells I 
While skies are bright, 
And morn's delight 
Within our bosom dwells. 

Sing, sing and dance, for soon shall we 
Return to homes beneath the sea. 

Where joy is dumb, 

Our power o'ercome, 
And hushed our minstrelsy. 

There silence reigns in twilight shade 
Of coral caverns pearl-inlaid ; 

Where sweetly sleep, 

Down in the deep, 
The captives we have made. 

Sing, while we sport in summer rays, 
The siren song of olden days, 

That lures and charms 

And to our arms 
The mariner betrays! 



A LovER'5 Rhapsody 

Oh, had I the prophetic fire 
And touch electric that inspire 
The poet-soul's melodious lyre, — 

The thoughts that now in secret burn, 
Within my heart's deep-hidden urn, 
By alchemy of love would turn 

Into the golden words that throng 
To melt and mingle into song 
And fancy's happy dreams prolong. 

Yet would I vainly strive to tell 
The transports that my bosom swell, 
Wrought by thy beauty's potent spell. 

And vain were quest, in earth or air, 
For aught of wealth that could compare 
With worth and loveliness so rare. 

In silence chained, when thou art near, 
Love seals my lips ; in sudden fear 
Awed, as when angel forms appear. 

Yet, wouldst thou know what speech denies, 
L/Ove's answer all outspoken lies. 
And thou mayst read it — in my eyes. 



Unloved 



LIKE a parched, neglected vine 
i Drooping in the sultry air, 
Is this thirsting heart of mine, 

Vainly seeking everywhere 
Some firm faith on which to lean. 

Some kind hand to raise it higher, 
Some fond eye whose steadfast beam 
Glows with love's celestial fire. 

Day by day the craving vine 

Puts its pleading tendrils forth, 
Mutely grasps the barren air. 

Dragging wearily on earth ; 
So this yearning heart of mine 

Hungers with a vain unrest 
For some kindred bosom, where 

It might cling forever blest. 



BERE/lVEb 



I HEAR the meadow-lark's love-carol ring, 
I note the swallow's sure returning wing, 
And blossoms garlanding the new-born spring : — 
But where art Thou ? 

The circling years roll on, and evermore 
Fresh flowers tessellate earth's fragrant floor ; 
The hills grow green, the billows beat the shore 

With pulse unchanged- 
Heaven's airy dome, not less serenely blue, 
From heights unseen still sheds the golden hue 
That lends a glory to earth's daily view, 

As once of yore ; 

When like two guileless children hand in hand. 
That waken, wonder-lost, in fairyland. 
Within a brighter world we seemed to stand — 
Immortal grown. 

Beauty, a spirit of inborn delight, 
Before us went and led our steps aright. 
Through lowly paths to many a starry height 
By angels trod. 



54 BEREA VED 

As parted dew-drops, trembling side by side, 
Drawn by a hidden law, together glide : 
Our spirits met and mingled, all untried, 
Insphered by love. 

What subtile charm did then our sense entrance. 
What fond communings veiled the hours' advance, 
What truths, the revelations of a glance. 
Our clear ej^es told ! 

On ocean-sands, in woodland-depths apart. 
Or in the crowded halls of Mirth or Art, 
With the sweet secret binding heart to heart. 
We stood alone. 

E'en in the storm of passion's loving ire. 
Flashing its summer-lightning's fitful fire. 
Our souls, like burning vapors mounting higher, 
Were purified ; 

And clouds that would have made love's sun- 
shine cease 
Transfigured shone and gave its light increase. 
Or broke in jocund colors arched to peace, — 
Such joy was ours ! 

But when our life's grand symphony began, 
All thought diverse to sweetest concords ran ; 
Unfettered as the chords night-breezes fan, 
Its music sprang. 



BEREA VED 55 

The wing of time no shadow cast ; its power 
But mellowed golden tints of that bright hour ; 
Eternal summer crown' d our nuptial bower 
With ripened bliss. 

And O beloved ! when came the dread decree 
That rent the bond of that blest unity, 
And like a star no eye again shall see 
Thou didst depart ; 

Swift as the fatal wrath of tropic seas, 
O'er whose calm breast the hissing tempest flees ; 
Dark as the doom the shipwrecked sailor sees : — 
My anguish fell. 

I warred with fate, long impiously fought 
Against the heavenly barrier thou hadst sought ; 
The boon of life was scorned and reckoned 
nought, 

Bereft of Thee ! 

Till, in that night of struggling grief's appeal, 
Subdued and taught an angel's touch to feel, — 
Then closed the bleeding wounds that never heal : 
The strife was o'er; 

And the Great Mother took me to her breast, 
Soothed me with charms and gave me holy rest : 
Now gently leads me to the portals blest 
That shelter Thee. 



flT THE FOUNT/IIN OF EQERI/J 



EGERIA, lovely phantom of dead years, 
Thou lingerest yet in this enchanted grot, 

Where in ecstatic grief, all else forgot, 
Thy being melted wholly into tears, 
"Whose ceaseless flow no mirrored heaven cheers. 

Here pilgrims pause to muse on thy sad lot ; 

The poet dreams and consecrates the spot. 
And in the murmur of thy fountain hears 
Th' immortal plaint, like moan of widowed birds, 

Its music to his listening ear betrays ; 

And visions throng of old heroic days ; 
Till thought and feeling blossom into words. 

To crown thy tears with the unfading wreath 

That art and song to deathless love bequeath. 



In DoNb/iQE 

AH ME ! it is a weary, bitter thing 
To sit with fettered feet beside the sea 
And mark its blue waves rolling wild and free, 
That call and beckon and white arms upfling, 
With siren glance a free path offering ; 
To list to winds whose music sweetly tells 
Of Nature's liberty, or proudly swells 
With paeans that contending forces ring ; 
To trace with longing gaze the free bird's flight 
To summer climes and heavens of purer ray, 
And crave its airy wings to bear away 
The ransomed soul ; while day gives place to 
night. 
And, mocked by fortune's smile, the slave of 

fate 
Moves the dull oar of life and learns to watch 
and wait. 



" RICORDITI DI ME CHE SON I^A PIA" 

—Dante, Del Purg. Cant. V 

OH, jealous love is cruel in its might ! 
More fatal than the south -wind's fiery- 
breath, 
Through some enchanting garden of delight 
Wooing fair things with kisses steeped in death ; 

Till the pale rose falls scentless from its stem. 
Sweet buds of promise cankered strew the 
ground, 

And the bowed lily's spotless diadem 

Is blackened in the blight that breathes around. 

Thus, like one buried living, make I moan. 
Immured in this lone castle's secrecy ; 

While slowly as the closed sepulchral stone 
Maremma's subtile poison stifles me. 

The promise of my life's delusive morn 

Was like the sunshine of a false spring day : 

A fleeting smile, a golden gleam heaven-born, 
Too soon in chilling storm-clouds hid away. 



PI A IN MAREMMA 59 

M}' dream of bliss, a brief portentous calm, 
Vanished untimely with a troubled waking ; 

And griefs embittered tears distill no balm 
To soothe this stricken heart and stay its 
breaking. 

The setting sun, blood-red like a fierce eye 

Greedy of pain, seems gloating on my sorrow, 

And sinks, as tireless foes to ambush hie. 
Only to bring another suffering morrow. 

The dusky sea, with sullen stealthy pace. 

Creeps in for leagues about the marshy land ; 

While I dream of blue waves that gaily race 
And break in music on a sunny strand. 

Oh, for the pinions of yon wandering bird. 
To soar in freedom from this prison's thrall ! 

Where, though by day the screech-owl mopes 
unheard 
And bats' black wings cling to the ivied wall, — 

By night winds sadly wail, or silence spreads 
A ghostly pall of noisome mists on earth; 

Pale spectres glide within, and horrid dreads 
Awake from unseen things of evil birth ; 

Where numbed with grief I sit, or stretch wan 
arms, 
Pleading unheard with lips now cold and pale ; 



6o PIA IN MAREMMA 

While thoughts, that once came honey-laden 
swarms, 
With torture-stings my very life assail* 

Am I that Pia, once in stately halls 

Where met Siena's young patrician daughters, 
Whose smile was likened to a light that falls 

Reflecting heaven on untroubled waters ? 

The breast of Beauty gave her nurture sweet, 
The hand of Art with generous Nature strove 

To gift her youth with charms and graces meet, 
And mould her virgin heart a shrine for love. 

Ah yes, alas! in life's unclouded spring, 

I was that gladsome, cherished maid, so graced, 

Until a fatal love with spousal ring 
A jeweled fetter on this finger placed. 

These faded locks, once bright and softly flowing, 
Were beauty's pride, breeze-kissed and rosy- 
crowned ; 
These languid feet, once light as zephyr's going, 
Air-winged by mirth and music spurned the 
ground. 

Till love came fluttering to my ready heart. 
As comes the shy bird to its hidden nest, — 

Only ere long as coldly to depart 

And leave to wintry winds what summer blest. 



PI A IN MA REM MA 6i 

I learned to brook suspicion's gloomy form, 

The withering frowns that banished artless joy. 

Unconscious of th' impending passion-stonn, 
With bolt of jealous scorn that would destroy. 

O cruel doubt that crushed a true heart's love ! 

Quenched kindling hopes in vain indignant 
tears, 
And left me nought a husband's faith to prove 

But sullied fame and life's few ruined years. 

Night folds me shuddering in her black embrace. 
Not darker than my fortune's present gloom ; 

For secret death lurks in this shadowy place 
And hurries on my early, unknown doom. 



To A Thistledown 

WELCOME, tiny wandering thing ! 
With thy silken-feathered wing, 
In my chamber window stealing, 
Noiselessly thy form revealing, 
Gently waking in my heart 
Thoughts that not with thee depart. 
But deepen memory into feeling. 

Thoughts of childhood's happy dream, 

When a changeless fairy scene 
L,ife appeared, without a morrow 
That could wear a shade of sorrow. 

lyight and free as thou, more dear. 

Dwelt I in love's atmosphere. 

Untaught a joy from hope to borrow. 

Wafted through the golden air, 

Whither dost thou softly bear 
Thy little fructifying treasure. 
To complete the careful measure 

Of thy humble task on earth ? 

Hast thou not the meed of worth 
In a wanton tour of pleasure ? 

Restless, sportive, airy thing, 
Tarry and thy story sing ! 



TO A THISTLEDOWN 63 

On the bank of some blue river, 
Where the pointed aspens quiver, 

Hast thou left thy parent stem 

For the crowded homes of men. 
There thy moral to deliver ? 

Or from some secluded lake, 

Whose glass}^ depths weird pictures make 
Of hoary rock or drooping willow. 
That dimly shades the mossy pillow, 

Where the wild-fowl's hidden nest 

Hides her brood from preying quest, 
Com' St thou dancing o'er the billow? 

Or perchance where some rude hedge 

Marks the meadow's grassy edge, 

Or field with rustling corn resounding, 
The farmer's fruitful home surrounding, — 

A spiny cah- x of pale hue 

Beside the blushing wild-rose grew, 

Whence thou, oft kissing earth, com'st 
bounding. 

Link of that mysterious chain, 

Whose secret man hath sought in vain, 
Which though strained is sundered never, 
Spite of time or death's endeavor, — 

lyO, thy little downy sphere 

Less marvelous doth not appear 

Than sparkling orbs that roll forever ! 



n^TIN SONQ 



THE glad earth wakes ! O welcome day, 
That brings fresh life in every token! 
Night-shadows flee like captive sprites 

Whose fairy bonds the morn hath broken. 

Resistless beams of rosy light 

The gloomy bars of darkness shatter ; 

And fleecy cloudlets upward float, 

I^ike sportive flocks that part and scatter. 

A thousand gems on leaf and blade 

Like merry twinkling stars are glancing ; 

The streams run blue, the babbling brooks 
Upon their pebbly beds are dancing. 

Birds plume and stretch their rufiSed throats, 
With sudden strains of music gushing ; 

Flowersraisetheirslumb'rous heads and smile, 
Like waking babes with pleasure flushing. 

The fallow fields and grassy meads 

Long level rays with gold are glossing ; 

The breeze with dewy fragrance fraught 
The tassel' d corn is gently tossing : 



MATIN SONG 65 

From wood and plain a hymn of praise 
To Nature's God is sweetly sounding ; 

And every freshened pulse of life 

With gratitude and joy is bounding. 



A 3\Kh C/IROL 



Where the topmost branches swing, 
There I lightly sit and sing 
Greetings to returning spring : 
Tira-la-la ! 

Darting now from spray to spray, 
Where the dancing sunbeams play, 
Warbling a gay roundelay : 
Tira-la-la ! 

Groves and gardens I explore ; 
Near the friendly cottage door 
Linger, singing o'er and o'er 
Tira-la-la ! 

Or within some leafy bower, 
Sheltered from a passing shower, 
Sipping nectar from a flower : 
Tira-la-la ! 

Through deep woodland shades I go, 
Where unruflBed waters flow. 
Waking echoes sweet and low : 
Tira-la-la ! 



A BIRD CAROL 67 

When I woo my little wife, 
Heart and song with joy are rife: 
Oh, what happiness is life ! 
Tira-la-la ! 

Arching boughs that touch the sky, 
Haunts unseen by human eye. 
There my little treasures lie : 
Tira-la-la ! 

Safe within a downy nest, 
Warm upon the mother-breast, 
While I sing with love's unrest — 
Tira-la-la ! 



Cradle Sonq 



SLUMBER, my darling one ! 
Slumber and rest, 
In tenderest faith 

On thy fond mother's breast ; 
For soft is the pillow. 

Where fresh from the heart 
Her life and thy own 

Mingle never to part. 

Lullaby ! Lullaby ! 

The weary sun sinks. 

His bright journey is o'er ; 
The wavelets he kissed 

Ripple golden no more. 
Then lullaby, babe ! 

Sleep the dark hours away, 
To wake and rejoice 

With the beautiful day. 

Lullaby! Lullaby! 

Night's shadows are falling, 

And chill blows the breeze 

That murmurs so mournfully 
Through the old trees ; 



CRADLE SONG 69 

But warm and secure 

From disturbing alarms, 
M)^ little dove nestles 

In sheltering arms. 

Lullaby! Lullaby! 



/Irct^rvis 



TO MY GRANDSON AT COLLEGE WHOSE BOYISH 
NOM DE PLUME HAD BEEN ARCTURUS 

AS nightly, like some Magian worshipper, 
- I gaze enraptured oh the starry sky 
And mark Arcturus gleam with ardent eye, 
Fond thoughts of thee my yearning bosom stir, 
Till tearful dews the heavenly vision blur. 
I see thee, clothed in youth's auroral light. 
Awaiting manhood's day with vision bright, 
To pure and lofty paths of thought defer. 

Now far away in other heavens unseen 

By my fond glance, my young Arcturus dwells, 
Shedding on stranger hearts those gladsome 
spells 

Wherein my weary spirit sought to glean 

New strength and courage for declining years. 
Amid affection's glow, undimmed by tears. 



To JlY Brother 

T. J. G. 

LAST night in dreamland, by thy cheering side, 
< I wandered ' mid long unremembered scenes. 
By alchemy of slumber's charmed means, 
Youth crowned our brows ; joy pulsed in life's 

full tide ; 
The forms beloved, that time and death divide, 
Grew bright, emerged from memory's misty 

screens ; 
And yet, it seemed, the harvest wisdom gleans 
From scattered sorrows did with us abide. 

Sweet the renewal of that early life ! 
When for the mastery in logic's wit 
The intellectual fires of youth were lit. 

And mirth and humor closed the gay tongue-strife. 
Some compensation absence yet may deem 
The fleeting pageant of a happy dream. 



C^RbS /IND QRE/in 

A SOUVENIR OF PHIIvADEI^PHIA DEDICATED TO 
MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS 



NOTHING trivial, mean, or rude, 
But contains some hidden good 
In the husk the fruitful seed ; 
Potent virtue in the weed ; 
In the rock the virgin gold ; 
Bitter rinds sweet juices hold ; 
In the rough unsightly shell 
Pearly hues of heaven dwell ; 
And the wasting sands of earth 
Cover gems of priceless worth. 
All things are not what they seem, — 
Here is more than Curds and Cream ! 



Soft and cool and mild and sweet, 
With Arcadian gleams replete ; 
Rosy dawns and purple shades 
Garnered here by rustic maids ; 
Clover-tops and new-mown hay 
Tempered by the breath of May ; 



CURDS AND CREAM 73 

Vesper music of the trees 
Trembling to the evening breeze ; 
Homely sound of lowing kine 
Mingling with the strain divine, — 
Humble poet's worthy theme, 
Let me laud thee, Curds and Cream ! 



Let me ever thankful be 
Simple tastes have cherished thee ; 
For the charm thy sweetness brings 
Touches memory's secret springs. 
Bathed in fancy's magic dews, 
Youth's pale flower its bloom renews. 
Visions throng of old delights, — 
Rural sounds and rural sights. 
Where an ancient farm-house stood, 
Near an oft- frequented wood : 
Lights and shadows of the dream 
Conjured here by Curds and Cream ! 



Sounds that taught my untuned ear 
Music of a higher sphere ; 
When I shared the pure repose 
Nature's sober gladness knows ; 
And the song of some lone bird 
Unknown deeps of feeling stirred, 
Like a warning voice afar 
Calling from my unseen star ; 



74 CURDS AND CREAM 

Long ere love's impassioned strain 

Woke the echoing voice of pain, 

Or doubt's rude tones to discord brought 

Heavenly harmonies of thought, 

Or grief could any blight impart 

To mar the summer of my heart. 

Sights that painted on mine eye 
Beauty-types that never die : — 
Shady stream with cedar dyed, 
And fringe of emerald moss beside : 
Airy grace of tangled vines ; 
Cloistral glooms among the pines ; 
Pictured vistas through arcades, 
Set like gems in forest shades ; 
Sycamores in silvery mail, 
Giant wardens of the vale ; 
Weeping willows drooping low 
In green cascades of leafy flow ; 
Glistening fields of growing grain ; 
Flocks like snow-flakes on the plain ; 
Distant orchard's cloudy bloom ; 
Country garden — all perfume ! 
Where 'mid healing herbs the rose 
In redundant beauty grows ; - 
And silken lilies rear their heads 
Proudly from the rustic beds ; 
Lilac-hedge and grassy floor 
Leading to the dairy door ; 
Golden cheeses, splashing churn. 
Frothy milk-pail's rich return ; 



CURDS AND CREAM 75 

Fallow fields and ploughing team ; 
Morning banquet — Curds and Cream ! 



What this witchery ? And whence 
Come these subtile links of sense, 
Blending earthly with divine, 
Bridging o'er the gulf of time. 
And bringing sunny pictures back 
To illume its blighted track ? 
Links of sense with feeling fraught. 
Forged and fashioned into thought, 
Whose electric thrills unroll 
Secret records of the soul, 
With ironic grace supreme 
In a bowl of Curds and Cream ! 



Fled the long, long years of strife 
On the battle-field of life ; 
Vanished all their wounds and pain. 
Every tint of sorrow's stain : — 
Childhood's golden age is here. 
With its joys and simple cheer ; 
Destined fortune strange and bright ; 
Youth's horizon — boundless light ! 

Early morn ! Hour fresh and cool, 
Sacred from the thrall of school ! 
'Mid the bloom of flowers and fruits, 



76 CURDS AND CREAM 

Odors wild of plants and roots, 
At the market-place we stand, — 
Brothers, sisters, hand in hand. 
Brass-bound tub and napkin white 
Bring the snowy curds to sight ; 
Cheerful, sun-browned dames dispense 
For our smiles and copper pence : 
Rosy cheeks and lips redeem 
Gross delight in Curds and Cream ! 



lyilies floating on the tide, 
Innocence our shield and guide, 
'Mid the throng of busy feet 
Crowding market-house and street,, 
Noise of traffic and demand, 
Ivoiter we in fairy-land. 
Undiscerned the brow of care. 
Eager search for scanty fare, 
Hungry glance and pallid cheek 
That privation's doom bespeak : — 
Heedless of the living stream, 
Sip we nectar, — Curds and Cream ! 



Golden days forever fled. 
When our footsteps angels led ! 
Childish faith and fresh surprise 
That made the green earth Paradise ! 
Where is now that household band ? 



CURDS AND CREAM 77 

Mother's soft caressing hand? 

Careful Father, teacher sage, 

Planting seeds for later age, — 

Seeds of love and truth and thought, 

That enriching harvests brought ? 

Where the kindred of our hearth ? 

And playmates dear who shared our mirth ? 

Closed the shining Gates of Old ! 
Time and Death their gains have told. 
Pearly morn and ardent noon 
Darken to night's coming gloom. 
Now no longer hand in hand 
Brothers dear and sisters stand : 
Ripened like the autumn sheaves, 
Scattered like the wintry leaves, 
Oceans vast between us roll, 
Other ties our lives control. 
Yet, as in a magic glass, 
All our j^outhful ]oys repass. 
Luminous in memory's beam 
By the spell of Curds and Cream ! 



C/ILIFORNI/I 

ON THK FORTIKTH ANNIVERSARY OF ADMISSION 
TO THE UNION 

HAIL, Daughter of the Great Republic, 
crowned 
With vine and olive, while thy sunny face 
Blends matron dignity with youthful grace. 
And Nature's bounty makes thee world-renowned! 

An empire's strength within thy realm is found: 
Health, riches, beauty, — all in thy embrace; 
And from thy toiling sons has sprung a race 

Whose worth to thy wide glory shall redound. 

And when disunion threatened to destroy 
The noblest fabric ever reared by man. 

How firmly on its platform didst thou stand ! 
How lavishly thy treasure didst employ. 
To soothe the woes that Civil War began, 
And by thy brave example cheer the land ! 



In the Sauta Cruz Homnt/iins 

HERE in the balmy air I breathe fresh life, 
New sense of liberty and Nature's grace ; 
And like some lonely Dryad, in deep shades 
Apart from man, I wander in a world 
Of sylvan beauty. 

In this silent world, 
Lo ! the sequoia's venerable bulk 
Stands yet firm-rooted 'gainst the stroke of time. 
Whilst nations and proud thrones, their courses 

run, 
Have crumbled into dusty nothingness. 
Great pines, whose plumy helms salute the sky, 
Their naked boles like granite shafts upreared. 
Stand monarchs of the mountain solitude ; 
And ancient oaks, with tangled, hoary locks 
Of pallid moss, rise like the effigies 
Of Druid priests of a forgotten age ; 
And groves of cypress spread a feathery screen. 
Where nestle quail or sits the listening hare. 

With trunk and twisted stems of rosy hue, 
The stout madrono spreads umbrageous leaves, 
That glisten fitfully with emerald sheen. 
Half-veiling flowery urns, like pearl-drops hung. 
That load the sighing breeze with drowsy sweets. 



8o SANTA CRUZ MOUNTAINS 

The ceanothus, too, with subtile breath, 

Wafts fragrance from her tiny purple plumes; 

And delicate azaleas, with faint fire, 

Ivike silver stars, light up each bosky nook ; 

And manzanitas raise entwining arms, 

Dyed in the ruddy hue of native wine; 

While mountain pinks, scattered like crimson 

drops 
Fresh from earth's heart, glow on her naked 

breast. 

In this embowered glen, beside this stream 

That glides in crystal to the neighboring sea. 

Oh, let me rest, and in an idle dream 

Of old-world story, playful fancies feed ! — 

That now resounding in the wild bee's hum 

I hear the magic horn of Oberon ; 

That on this green bank, "sometime of the 

night," 
The fairy queen Titania may have lain ; 
In yon cool alcove, where each furtive beam 
Dapples the gloom with flickering golden light, 
Her dainty elfin troops of antic sprites 
I^ike glow-worms may have sparkled for awhile. 

Or lost in sterner mood, here let me muse 
On life's mutations in the lapse of time, 
Pacing with tardy steps these dusky aisles, 
Whose brown elastic carpet of dead leaves 
Is but a page of Earth's wide palimpsest, 
Where, o'er the dim mementoes of lost years, 



SANTA CRUZ MOUNTAINS 8i 

The olden tale, forevermore renewed, 
In fresh designs of beautj^ she records. 

Or like some spirit-weary potentate, 
Sated with pomp and the behests of power, 
Withdrawn from vain illusions of the world 
To seek the balm of Nature's holj^ chrism,— 
My royal throne this rugged, time-worn stone, 
Fern-plumed and draped with pall of velvet 

moss, — 
Let me, communing with sweet Nature's self, 
Seek inspiration from her purest founts ; 
And here supine, with raptured eye explore 
The blue ethereal vault above me spread, 
Until my spirit, borne to the abyss 
Of thought divine from which its being sprang. 
Touched momentarily with kindred fire. 
Thrills with mysterious recognition of 
The Unseen Presence that pervades all space ; 
And reconciled to Nature's laws, discerns 
That all is good, blest by Eternal Love. 



In Face 



COME, Sleep, O silent goddess, grave and calm! 
Shed o'er my troubled brow thy soothing 
balm, 
Haunt my vexed ear with some quaint holy 
psalm, 

Or olden la,y 

Of childhood's day. 

Beneath thy nebulous, soft veil conceal 

Earth's sordid cares, the woes time cannot heal ; 

On weary lids lay thy Eethean seal, 

lyike the caress 

Fond mothers press. 

Lead me through mazes of thy charmed land 
To far-off shores by peaceful heavens spanned, 
There let me wander or enraptured stand, 

Forgetting all 

Life's fret and thralh 

There welcome smiling eyes and lips long stilled, 
Whose tender greetings once my bosom thrilled ; 
There let me find youth's promises fulfilled. 

Nor more bewail 

The hopes that fail. 



IN PACE 



83 



Or in oblivion steeped, let memoty cease ; 
And like a nestling veiled in downy fleece, 
In all the sweet beatitude of peace, 
Thy spell's control 
Wrap my sad soul. 



CONGRESS 



LIBRARY OF CO 

ililllM^^ 

015 871 540 5 



it^f^ii^ 






i^SiSA^ 






rf^SPM**' 



k^^lknit 



